Small Town, Small World
by theoneshotter
Summary: Welcome to Roseworth, a small town with a big ego. Follow the lives of the various international residents as they fight their way through high school, break up and make up (or become mortal enemies), and find out what it means to be a good ally. Rating subject to change.
1. The Nazi Fortress Part One

**A/N: Hello guys! I have another story for you! I'm hoping that this one will actually get off the ground. So basically it's a group of one-shots (there are connected ones, though), about my AU Hetalia universe. The words in Italics are spoken in a foreign language because I don't want to use Google Translate to butcher the beautiful languages of the world. If you know how to say the phrases correctly, however, feel free to tell me how and I'll fix it! **

**Enjoy! R&R~ I love you guys. :) **

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Feliciano bounced on the balls of his feet as he waited for his best friend Ludwig to finish packing his bag. Feliciano's twin, Lovino, leaned against the locker; texting and cursing under his breath periodically.

"So we could go to your house and study! We can have a snack and you can help me with algebra~" Feliciano chirped absentmindedly.

"No." Ludwig answered almost before the other had stopped speaking, a little too sharply. Feliciano stopped bouncing. Lovino stepped in front of him protectively.

"Don't talk to my brother like that." He growled. Feliciano peeked around his brother, his chocolate eyes confused. He bit his lip and tucked an auburn lock of hair behind his ear.

"Luddy?"

Ludwig closed his locker. "I'm sorry, Feliciano. We can't go to my house today." He hefted his backpack over his shoulder with a grunt. "Would you like to go to the park instead?"

Lovino crossed his arms. He looked from Ludwig to his brother, then back to Ludwig. He had never trusted the German. His cold blue eyes, slicked-back hair, and unearthly work ethic set off warning bells which Lovino had trouble ignoring. His brother being so flaky, Lovino had developed a keen danger instinct over the years. Ever since they could walk, Lovino had been grabbing at his brother, pulling him back before he could tumble down the stairs or skip into a street of traffic.

Now there was this kraut. His AP World History book felt heavy in his red, white and green backpack. Didn't the Germans take advantage of the Italians? His stereotypically Italian twin was being drawn right into the clutches of this blond Hitler.

Feliciano reached down to pick up his bag, which seemed more like a floppy shell of a backpack due to its lack of books. Ludwig, despite the weight of the books on his back, easily bent and scooped it up for him. Feliciano smiled, the premature laugh lines around his eyes deepening. The worry-crease between Ludwig's blond brows softened as his own face melted into an almost-smile. The Italian laced his slender, artist's fingers through Ludwig's sausage-like ones.

Lovino had to do something. He had to expose this potato-sucker for what he was.

"Hey Kraut, why can't we go to your house?" He said suddenly, wrapping a fist around the fabric at the back of his brother's shirt, ready to pull him away and run. He was good at running. Hell, he was the track star. Better than the seniors. Rigid and quivering, he waited for Ludwig to answer.

"_What are you doing?_" Feliciano whispered over his shoulder in Italian, trying to look at Lovino with teary eyes. "_Don't be mean." _

_ "Shut up, I'm saving you." _He whispered back.

Lovino took a breath and stepped forward, pulling his brother behind him and out of the German's grasp. He repeated his question. "Well? Why can't we go to your house?"

"Because it's dirty." Ludwig said uneasily. He seemed to force himself to look Lovino in the eyes. Lovino stared him down.

"Bullshit." He said easily, beginning to gain confidence. He had a foothold, the kraut was nervous. His heart rate sped up; he clenched his fists. He pressed on before the adrenalin rush faded. "What are you hiding in there, _Nazi_? A bunch of Jews you've deemed not worthy? C'mon, everyone knows that your brother's a neo-Nazi who worships the Prussian kings like gods. Why would you be different?"

Feliciano squeaked, and Ludwig's mouth opened in surprise. Color rushed his pale cheeks as he struggled to find words.

Feliciano spoke first, in Italian. "_Lovino, why are you being so mean?" _

Lovino didn't answer. He took another step forward. "Well? Gonna answer me Beilschmidt?"

Ludwig's face was red with embarrassment and quiet rage. He closed his eyes, composing himself. They snapped open a moment later, the ice in the blue pools causing a shiver to run down Lovino's spine. "Fine. Come with me then. I'll show you I'm not hiding anything."

Lovino quietly released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. The fight left him, and he staggered backwards slightly, into his brother's steadying hands. He straightened, adjusted his messenger bag on his shoulder and stuck one hand in his pocket. He tugged at the gold cross around his neck with the other. Trying to regain his bravado, he glared at Ludwig from under heavy lids.

"Let's go then. Lead the way."

Ludwig nodded, and the twins followed him down the darkening hall, out the doors and onto the street.

Ten tense minutes of walking later, the trio found themselves at a door on a side street in the inner city. The door might once have been painted green, or maybe it was just the mold blossoming in the woodwork like algae beneath the surface of a lake.

"This it?" Lovino asked as Ludwig unlocked the door. The German didn't reply, putting his shoulder against the door and shoving against it roughly. With a horrid scraping of wood and shrieking of hinges, it popped open, revealing a dark staircase.

"Watch out, the steps are a bit loose." Ludwig cautioned, mostly to Feliciano, who immediately grabbed his elbow. They started up the steep stairs; Ludwig's footsteps thundering like a herd of elephants against the wood while Feliciano's tapped a soft rhythm. Lovino trailed behind, feeling slightly claustrophobic as the door swung shut behind him.

Ludwig's tall frame cast a shadow as he opened the door at the top and switched on a light. Feliciano crept in behind him and Lovino heard him gasp. He quickened his steps, the sound of his feet hitting the squeaky planks echoing around him. He had fallen pretty far behind, and he still had quite a ways to go before he reached the landing. The darkness began to close in on him, the square of yellow light at the top growing smaller. Dust motes swirled in front of his eyes, blurring the sacred light. The light _was _growing smaller. Soon it was only a sliver, and with a bang the door shut.

The darkness was overwhelming. He held a hand in front of his face and couldn't see it. His mouth went dry, icy terror surged in his veins. Cold despair set in, his limbs went numb.

He hated lots of things; bugs, British food, American food, German food, Germans, cold weather, but the thing he hated most, above all others, was the dark. It was embarrassing really, how afraid he was.

There was a roaring bark at the top of the stairs. Lovino froze, his heart stopping its racing beats. The door creaked back open, a bulky shadow obscuring the light from the floor to about half way up. Lovino screamed.


	2. The Nazi Fortress Part Two

**A/N: Part two of the Nazi Fortress! Yeah, I just came up with a name for this particular two-shot. The next ones will be little one-shots focusing on other people. A lot of them will be narrated by Lovi, because he's easiest for me to write (that's a scary thought). **

**I don't really have much else to say, other than that the updates won't usually be this close together, I just had this one almost written. Enjoy!**

**Also, I don't own Hetalia. :)**

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A giant black and brown head came into focus at the top of the stairs. Lovino backtracked, tripping over his feet. He grabbed the banister, which snapped in two and jumped from the wall with a noise like a gunshot. He fell, managing to stop himself before he rolled down the stairs, just barely.

The door below him crashed open. Blood-red afternoon light flooded the stairway and lit up the dog like a fiery demon from hell. His teeth gleamed wetly as he growled.

"Fritz! Down boy, down!" A rough voice yelled from behind Lovino. He spun around, suddenly face-to-face with Gilbert Beilschmidt, Ludwig's older brother. His red eyes seemed to glow as a slow smile spread across his face. He quickly pushed past Lovino, and yanked the dog up the stairs by the collar. He yelled something in German, his husky voice enhancing the already guttural sound of the language. Ludwig answered from within, and with a slam of an interior door, the dog was gone.

Gilbert paused at the top of the stairs, still grinning at Lovino, who was perched on the edge of a step, trying to make himself as small as possible in case the dog came back.

"Hey Lovi." Gilbert said, tripping lightly down the stairs to help him to his feet. "What are you doin' hiding in the stairwell?"

Lovino didn't answer. He busied himself with brushing imaginary dust from his clothes and smoothing his hair. Surprisingly, the tattered stairwell was quite clean. Someone obviously cared about it.

"Did Fritzy scare ya? Don't worry, he doesn't bite," Gilbert paused, "usually." He chuckled at the look of sheer terror that crossed Lovino's face.

"Have we met?" Lovino asked, crossing his arms to regain his composure. Of course he knew Gilbert I'm-So-Awesome Beilschmidt, who didn't? He was a senior, a popular one at that. That particular class was rambunctious as it was, but Gilbert put them all to shame.

He stirred up trouble wherever he went. It was a small town, so everyone had their Gilbert story. His best friends were Francis Bonnefoy, the elegant man whore, and Antonio Fernàndez Carriedo, the handsome airhead. Together they made the infamous Bad Friends Trio.

Lovino did _not _like the BFT. According to him, Bonnefoy was a party-boy rapist, Carriedo was an idiot who was also out to rape him, and Beilschmidt was a Nazi spy. The fact that he was albino also freaked Lovino out. Those scary red eyes couldn't mean anything good was dwelling in his soul.

"You don't know the awesome me?" A touch of a German accent still remained in Gilbert's voice, though Ludwig had pretty much lost it by now. "Yes you do, you're Antonio's boytoy!"

Lovino blushed. "I am not! Don't listen to anything he says! He's too stupid to know that I want him to leave me alone!"

"You two are adorable. It's chilly down here, let's go upstairs." Gilbert turned and jogged up the stairs. Lovino followed, anxious to get out of the dark.

When Lovino walked into the apartment, he froze. He could see the entire home from where he stood in the doorway. The spotless kitchen was tiny; he could have crossed it in two strides. A card table was shoved against one wall. Unopened bills and homework papers were piled so high on one side that it seemed like the table would tip over if he touched it.

A door-less doorway led into a stamp-sized bedroom with two mattresses on the floor. One was made up impeccably while the other's blankets looked more like wadded dirty laundry than bedclothes. Scratching and whining could be heard from behind the last door. Lovino decided that he would stay far away from it. Who knew if that dog-wolf-thing had had its rabies shots?

Feliciano was in tears. He was perched on the counter, searching through the cabinets with a haunted look in his eyes. Ludwig sat at the table, his books piled around him. His cheeks were pink, and he stared at his open textbook like he was trying to set fire to the pages with his gaze.

Feliciano turned and saw Lovino and Gilbert coming though the door. "Fratello!" He shrieked, jumping down and grabbing Lovino's hand. "Fratello, they don't have any food!"

Ludwig's blush deepened. Gilbert laughed, running a hand through his white hair.

"Yeah… I haven't gotten a chance to go the store." He said, going to the fridge and pulling out a beer. Ludwig looked up, glaring at him.

"You've got to go to work, Gilbert."

"Ja, _Dad._"He sat down in the only other seat at the table. Ludwig continued to glare at him. Gilbert ignored him and took a swig of his drink. "You're just jealous because I don't let you have a beer until dinner. Besides, I know you skipped lunch today. You can't drink on an empty stomach."

"How do you know I didn't eat? You didn't either!" Ludwig slammed his book shut. The crease between his brows deepened as he reprimanded his older brother. Lovino didn't know any other sophomores with wrinkles. Ludwig obviously had a stick stuck way up in his ass, almost as bad as his cousin Roderich. Maybe it was just Germans. God, he hated them.

"I can hear your stomach growling." Gilbert said smugly, ruffling Ludwig's hair.

"Go to work." Ludwig flipped back to the page he was on, took out a notebook, and began to take notes.

Gilbert stood up and drained the rest of his beer. He turned to the Italians standing in shocked silence in the middle of his kitchen.

"Sorry we don't have any snacks. You guys are welcome to anything you can find, though."

Feliciano went over to peer into the fridge. Lovino followed him, almost touching heads with his brother as they searched the starkly white and empty space. Disappointment called attention to his rumbling stomach, the cold air made him shiver in the already chilly apartment. Apart from three Bud Light cans, there was a bottle of mustard. Nothing else.

Lovino could feel himself becoming weak with hunger. Why did he want to come to this horrible place so badly again? It was cold and depressing. He wanted to go home. These stupid Germans and their freezing house, their lack of food… was he starting to feel sorry for them? No. No he wasn't. He couldn't be.

"Right kiddos, I'm outta here. Play nice!" Gilbert tossed his can into the recycling bin and headed out the door.

"Gil! Wait!" Ludwig called.

"Ja?" Gilbert stuck his head around the doorframe.

"Where's your backpack?" Ludwig asked sternly.

"Ahhh… good question. Ask Tonio and Fran." With that, Gilbert turned and thudded down the stairs, slamming the door behind him.

Ludwig massaged his temples like a middle-aged man. His muscular shoulders slumped as if he carried the weight of the world on them. Feliciano walked over to him.

"Are you hungry?" He asked in a quiet voice. He laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"No." Ludwig said. His stomach growled loudly. A faint smile fluttered across Feliciano's mouth.

"Come have dinner with us." He pulled on Ludwig's arm, and the German half-smiled. What exactly was happening slowly dawned on Lovino. Ludwig was going to be in _his_ kitchen, eating _his _food…

"NO!" There was no way in _hell _that he was going to let a Beilschmidt into his house, much less his _kitchen_. Who knew what kind of disasters he could create by just infecting the air with his presence?

"Fratello?" Feliciano asked, cocking his head slightly to the side. It was an annoying habit that he'd acquired over the years. "Be cute" was his defense mechanism.

"Heis _not _coming home with us. No way." Lovino spoke as if Ludwig wasn't in the room. He crossed his arms and glared at his brother.

"If it's a problem, I don't-" Ludwig began.

"SHUT UP!" Lovino yelled without looking at him. Feliciano flinched, and Ludwig reddened. His stomach growled again. Lovino tried to block the sound out, glaring at him.

"_Fratello, he's hungry. Wouldn't Nonno let him eat with us? It's sad when people are hungry." _Feliciano murmured, eyes cast to the floor.

Lovino felt a pang of guilt. As much as he wished a fiery death on the German for stealing his brother, hunger was an unnecessary torture. Even though it was his fault for not eating lunch…

"Why didn't you eat today, Luddy? Kiku and I missed you at the table." He heard Feliciano ask. He turned to see Ludwig sigh deeply and close his book.

"I had to make up a test from Friday."

Feliciano nodded in understanding. Friday was the day that the kraut hadn't been at school. Lovino had had Feliciano all to himself. But why wasn't he there? Lovino felt that pang again. Had he been sick?

"Where were you?" Lovino asked abruptly. Ludwig turned to him in surprise.

"I had a court hearing." Ah ha! So the kraut was a criminal! "My brother's trying to get custody of me." Ludwig explained.

"_What_?!"

Ludwig blushed again. "Yeah, it's almost gone through. He got out of foster care few months ago when he turned eighteen, and he moved us here. We're just getting everything finalized."

Lovino could only stare. _How the hell did _Gilbert Beilschmidt _get custody of anyone? _He was the most immature person Lovino knew, and he knew a _lot _of immature people. He was bursting with questions. Where were their parents? How was this legal? Where did Gilbert work? _How did Gilbert come to care and provide for another human being? _

Feliciano pulled Ludwig to his feet, and Lovino couldn't find it within himself to stop him. Maybe his grandpa had made something with potatoes.

Did they have any arsenic?


End file.
